


Out In The Open

by Butterfrogmantis



Category: Les Schtroumpfs | The Smurfs
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, but its hella tame, honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22924540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfrogmantis/pseuds/Butterfrogmantis
Summary: Being Don Smurfo in the real world seemed fairly glamourous to begin with, but unfortunately real life isn't always a fairy tale, as the hero is starting to learn. However Don isn't the only Smurf with unusual beginnings, as his recent partner Somebody can relate all too well. When an argument between them threatens to destroy the foundations of their relationship, it seems as though they could both lose the one Smurf they thought could finally understand them. But it might not be too late, at least not if a weekend in the mountain cabin has anything to teach them about communication ...
Relationships: Don Smurfo / Somebody Smurf, Schtroumpf Coquet | Vanity Smurf/Schtroumpf Grognon | Grouchy Smurf, Timber Smurf / Miner Smurf
Kudos: 1





	Out In The Open

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of this is heavily headcanon based, I like Don Smurfo and would much rather he stayed in the village, haha. Also note that hundreth smurf becomes "Nobody Smurf" In this story. 
> 
> On that topic I quite like John Oliver's Vanity voice, so assume Somebody has a British English accent as well.

There was only one mirror in the entirety of Somebody’s house. It was a tall, skinny one in the master bedroom, tucked away on the inside of the wardrobe door. For visiting guests it wasn’t such an issue, a little peculiar perhaps, but most Smurfs can go a few hours without needing to actually see their face. For Don Smurfo, however, it was becoming a bit of an issue. Not because he wanted to preen or admire himself (at least ... not always) but simply because it was a tad more inconvenient than what he’d usually consider to be an acceptable amount of mirrors. What if his moustache was wonky on one side? It’d be much easier to give a passing glance in the hallway than it was to consciously make the effort to walk into Somebody’s room, open the wardrobe and decide to take a look. 

What made the lack of mirrors more interesting is what happened when you walked into Vanity’s house. All of a sudden, you were met with hardly anything BUT the sight of yourself. Mirrors on the walls, mirrors on the table tops, mirrors in drawers. One time Don had decided to lie on the couch, and had been rather surprised to see himself staring down at him from the ceiling. 

In passing, the difference between the two households might have seemed like a funny coincidence, perhaps even a robbery on Vanity’s half. What was actually odd about it, more than anything, was that Vanity and Somebody were the same Smurf. Technically, anyhow. Somebody, who had not been brought via a stork like the rest of the village, had been created when a lightning bolt had struck a piece of polished silver, somehow bringing him out into the real world, albeit as a reverse copy – repeating anything Vanity said, backwards. A second lightning strike, and he was a fully independent, sentient Smurf like any other. But this was not without issues, as the Smurf was now wholly identical to Vanity, and resented it. Most Smurfs looked similar, in the sense that they were short, blue and often wore a white cap and white clothes, but subtle differences such as height, freckles or body type made them distinguishable. For Vanity and his “twin” there was no such difference, not at the start. Both were average height, perhaps a smidge shorter than most of the village. Both had a constant rosy glow to their cheeks, and a curvaceous, almost feminine edge to their body shape. For this reason, Somebody had since taken to wearing conservative suits and a dark pair of shades to cover as much of himself as he could. This was also why there no mirrors in his house, because he wanted to be independent from his vain twin, and hated the constant reminder of who he really was. 

Don Smurfo was a completely different kind of Smurf. He was brash, bold and the hero of every Smurfling’s dreams (and some of the older Smurfs in another sense) He had been brought out of his book via Papa’s potion – initially accidently. But constant heroics that followed the same story line every time had become wearisome over the centuries, there were only so many fire breathing dragons he could defeat until the task simply became boring. Eventually, he’d hidden a message on the page of one his books for the real Smurfs to find, and had since been brought out of the book with the intent to create his own adventures. He’d started by taking on Papa’s mission to collect some herbs from Mount St. Smurf the volcano, and had chosen to seek out and drag Somebody Smurf along, as he was known for undercover scouting missions, a secret agent of sorts. Since then, the two had been inseparable – because Don wouldn’t leave the agent alone. It had been a rocky friendship, but the two had patched up the initial awkwardness and were slowly beginning to realise their mutual attraction. They were both oddities in their own way but they understood each other and that’s what mattered, which is where they currently stood now. 

Now, it wasn’t always easy living with Don Smurfo. Behind the charismatic smile and heroic reputation, he was now just an average Smurf. Whilst most of the time he could be pretty fun, he did have his own peculiar habits. Mostly, his obsession with pasta was what often drove Somebody up the wall. It could never be Smurf-In-The-Hole with gravy or Smurf Tacos with salad, always Pasta Smurfoli or Smurfoli Ravioli or some other form of cooked wheat flour. On the rare occasions Somebody encouraged him to step away from having spaghetti for the 124957th time, he’d automatically revert to his second choice – pizza. And even that was growing wearisome; there were only so many ingredient combinations the agent could request from Greedy before it became an endless cycle of nothing but carbohydrates. In fact, that’s what had started the first disagreement. 

“But Signore, it is-a de staple of my homeland”

“Don, for the last time” Somebody pinched the bridge of his nose “You can’t expect to just have this for the rest of your life”

“And-a why not?” Don sounded miffed. 

“Because it’s not good for you, and you’ll regret it later” Somebody gently pressed his finger into the tip of Don’s nose. “How about you try something new for once? Likeeee” he paused for a moment “Oh I don’t know, ratatouille” 

“Is it-a pasta?” Don asked, hopefully.

“No, it’s vegetables. And it’s French” 

The Italian pulled a face of disgust.

“Don’t let your best friend Painter see that” Somebody sighed, feeling defeated. He’d already had enough of the nights of wine “testing” with the artist. Quite often he and Poet would be forced to drag at least one of them home before they started a sword vs paintbrush battle or some other dangerous antic. Quite frankly, Somebody felt more like he was babysitting sometimes, and it was beginning to grow tiresome. He liked Don; he did, but years of being the main plot in storybooks for Smurfling’s had given him a slightly more reckless approach to adult activities such as drinking. Romantic as he may be, Don was still getting used to real life. 

“You know what, I’m not having this, come on”

“Che cosa?”

“If we can’t decide between ourselves, then let’s go to the dining hall and have Greedy’s food. It’s better than arguing about it at any rate”

“We are not-a arguing?” Don sounded surprised, but his partner merely raised an eyebrow.  


“No you’re right. An argument would end with you sleeping on the couch. Now, come on” 

Don mumbled something about tagliatelle, but obliged.

The dining hall was mostly empty by the time the couple arrived, as most of the village had already eaten and left or stayed at home, but there were a few tables in the corner with Smurfs still chatting and enjoying their last drinks of the night. Somebody grabbed two plates from the serving rack and began to help himself to Greedy’s food. Don took a plate of salad and glared at it as though it had insulted his fashion sense. He slunk into an empty seat and began chewing dismally on a forkful of lettuce. 

“Well you could at least look more enthusiastic” Somebody sighed, sliding into the seat next to him. “Really Donny, don’t you think this is all a little bit childish?”

“What can I say? I am a children’s storybook character”

“But you’re not a child” Somebody pointed his fork at him “Technically, you’re probably older than all of us”

This was, at least partially, true. The Don Smurfo books had been written by Smurfs centuries ago, even before Grandpa’s time, but since they were only books Don retained the physical appearance of a young adult Smurf (albeit with facial hair, which was a fairly rare trait for real Smurfs under the age of 400). It was assumed he’d age normally outside of his books, but only time would tell.

“Ey, it-a makes me personable” Don shrugged, shoving another mouthful of tomato and cucumbers into his mouth and swallowed with a shudder.

“Perhaps to 50 year olds, but you don’t have you base your personal life off the whims of a Smurfling” 

“It’s easy for-a you to say, you’ve a never had to deal with them”

“Pardon?”

“Well, you like to hide away signore, I do not-a see you interacting with those little Smurfabino’s – not even-a Snappy. You do not-a even talk to your brother”

“He’s not my brother” Somebody hissed, pushing his now empty plate away from him. “We just ... we’re similar that’s all”

Don shot a look that said “really”, under the brim of his hat. 

“You can not-a tell me to change my personality when you are-a being childish yourself. I know he has invited you over many-a times, signore. You should-a talk to him”

“I have nothing to say to that ...” Somebody exhaled sharply “Self absorbed Smurf”  


“He is not-a all that way – he cares about you” Don twirled his moustache thoughtfully “Is it-a because of the mirrors in his house?” 

Somebody blushed, and stared down at his empty plate. Don knew about his origins, and his dislike of mirrors, but that didn’t mean Somebody had confided his deepest thoughts, at least not yet. Don didn’t know that Somebody actually despised his own appearance – Somebody was happy to play the serious but merry guy, he had friends like kindly Clumsy who had tried so hard to find him a new name, but he didn’t want to worry them with his own thoughts. He liked Don even more than that for all the Smurf annoyed him, and tried even harder to pretend like he didn’t secretly sob into his pillow sometimes, wishing he could have any other body than that of Vanity’s.

“I-it’s not that Don, it’s um, a little more emotional than that” he coughed, ignoring the question “I don’t want to discuss it here” 

“You are-a discussing my book” Don frowned “I am not ashamed of where I came from, so why-a do you try to deny it?” 

“Donny, seriously. Those Smurfs are looking at us” Somebody nodded his head over to where a small group of their friends were staring, some looking puzzled and others concerned.

“No, first you insult-a my pasta and now my-a books, and now you “don’t want to discuss it” when I ask you a question? I may be a little out of touch but I am not a fool, signore”

“Don. Drop it.” 

“Then-a talk to your twin”

“I said, he’s NOT MY BROTHER” Somebody stood up suddenly, causing his chair to clatter onto the floor behind him. 

The room had gone completely silent, and the gawping Smurfs on the other table now had their mouths hanging slightly open. Somebody ignored them; adrenaline was coursing through him too much to stop now. 

“I don’t have to put up with any of this you know? I was doing just fine my own. I didn’t have to babysit an adult Smurf who cries when he doesn’t get his Smurfing pasta, then goes ahead and gets wasted every other weekend even though he knows he’s going to end up with a hangover because “this never happened in my books” but it’s O so ok because every Smurf likes him and he’s never overlooked or reduced to his so called “past” because he’s their hero, right? At least you chose to join us and be like this, some of us didn’t even get that option”

You could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. In fact, you could, because Tailor had been sitting at one of the tables with his sewing cushion. Don’s face was red with embarrassment under his mask. Finally, the Italian collected himself, and also stood up, much quieter, and slid his chair under the table with a screech.

“You might not-a have chosen to live here like I did, signore, but you can-a chose how you treat us” And with that, Don Smurfo turned on his heel, and walked from the dining room, his cape brushing against the backs of chairs as he strode out. 

Somebody let out a breath, which sounded more like a sob, and slunk slowly back down onto his chair which he pulled up from the ground. Stupid, stupid Smurf. Don was right of course, he let his anger get to him, it was rare, but not unheard of. The room began to fill with noise again, painfully slowly, and Somebody rested his head in his arms, not daring to look the others in the eye. Once the place reached normal volume again, Somebody heard one of the seats close to him being pulled out and he looked up, hoping to see familiar purple. 

“If you ask me, you two need a stay in my Mount Smurferest Cabin” Timber, the village lumberjack was looking steadily at him underneath the pom pom on his hat. 

“Mount Smurferest?” 

“Uh huh, no place like it” Timber leant back precariously in his chair “Finest trees around, yessiree, I often take a trip up there when I just want to get away from it all, built the cabin myself. It’s quite a climb but you’re both fit Smurfs, you’ll have no problem, I’ll fetch you me key”

“No offense, Timber, but how is that going to help?” Somebody blinked over the top of his shades.

“Communication, boy. Why I remember my first camping trip with the Smurf Scouts, oh yes I do. Me, Tracker, Hunter and Nat spent a week in the mountains hiking round the edge. Course that was before little Nat got de-aged” he quickly pointed out. “But by golly there aint nothin’ like it for building teamwork, I think you and your boyfriend could do with a little of that” He winked.

“I ... well I suppose” Somebody mumbled, looking down at his hands. “That sounds fun, thank you Timber”

“Aint nothin’ to it, there should be fresh logs in the shed up there anyway, I was only there a couple of months ago, but I’ll chop you some new ones to take for the first night. There’s one of me old axes up there too, don’t worry, I’ll get the old scout team to pack you some backpacks. Course I made few modifications recently, it’s got three bedrooms and a hot tub, by golly that sure is nice in the evening”

“You’re too kind, really” Somebody smiled weakly. “I’ll go and ask Don about it” 

“Good luck!” Timber called merrily as the agent slipped away silently, as usual. 

When he got to the house, Somebody noticed that all of the lights were off. He gulped and tried the doorknob, but it gave with ease and he slid into the living room, where he saw a shape lying on the sofa. He sighed, remembering that he had told Don if they argued he’d be sleeping on the couch. Somebody slowly dropped to his knees so that he was face height with his partner and shook his shoulder gently to wake him. 

“Hey, Donny”

“Hm?” 

“I-I’m sorry. It was uncalled for. But Timber thinks he might know a solution”

“What is it?”

“He says there’s a little cabin of his on Mount Smurferest, we can make the journey and stay there for a while to get away from the village and I think it would be a good idea for both of us” 

“Mount-a what?”

“Smurferest, Timber will probably show us the way, I imagine it’ll be quite a walk up there though”

Don grumbled a little, but it didn’t sound too annoyed. 

“W-well? Will you come?”

Don Smurfo paused for a moment, then nodded.

“And no calling that golden eagle of yours”

Don chuckled.

“Sì. And signore? I’m-a sorry too, I know it is a ... difficult subject for you and our-a situations are different”

Somebody’s lip twitched briefly, but he was glad they were both willing to take the trip.

“C’mon then Don, smurf over”

“Huh?” 

Somebody hoisted himself up onto the sofa and wrapped his arms around the Italian, who seemed to blush but smile as he hugged him back. 

Sunlight was filtering in through a crack in the shutters when Don awoke the next morning. Somebody was still curled up in his arms in the same suit he fell asleep in, although his shades had fallen off at some point, exposing his face. It was certainly true that he looked like Vanity, especially when he was looking less serious. He looked softer asleep, and the distinctive rosy glow on his cheeks was highlighted by the morning sun, something Don knew he’d try to deny. In Don’s mind, they were merely the same identical twins, and there was no reason for Somebody to dislike having the same appearance. He did understand, however, that it was not an issue of twinship, and therefore the association was difficult for him. Don stretched himself upwards, trying to wriggle off the sofa. Somebody made a small whine in his sleep and pressed himself closer to Don’s chest, as if he didn’t want him to move.

Don smiled, how cute. But the movement had woken the agent up, who was now rubbing his face with his hand and looking around the room.

“Buongiorno” Don grinned, and the other smiled.

“Good morning, Donny” He yawned “Ready for the hike?”

“Ehh, as I’ll-a ever be”

“It’s a start” Somebody grinned, sitting up “I’m going to shower and start packing, so I suggest you grab stuff to take”

They had only just finished sorting out their personal equipment for the trip when Timber and Miner arrived with two backpacks. 

“Smurf and begorrah, that’ll be a might awkward load” Miner exclaimed, setting down one of the backpacks. “I don’t mind shovellin’ round coal all day but these bags here sure be a little different”

“By golly a couple o’ strong lads like these will manage these small things” Timber grinned, setting down the other “You carried yours like a coal sack, that’s why it was awkward”

“Perhaps” Miner wiped his brow with a handkerchief “But I be wishin tae best fer you now” 

“Ah, we got you two the best supplies, maps, compasses, and a little food to help ye on the way” 

Timber patted the top of the bag fondly as if it were a pet. “Now I’ll take ye to the foot of Mount Smurferest and you can give it a go”

Don and Somebody exchanged a glance, and then nodded. 

“Ah, and I’ll be gettin’ back to me diggin’” Miner slung his pickaxe over his shoulder, narrowly avoiding the front door. “But good luck tae the lot o’ you” He wagged his finger respectfully, kissed Timber on the cheek, and left through the front door. 

The lumberjack blushed slightly, and then winked at his friends who had put their spare clothes in their scout packs and were busy hoisting them onto their backs. 

Timber led them to the foot of a tall rocky mountain on the southwestern side of the village, a little way out from where most Smurfs went. He gave them directions and wished them luck as they started up the trail. The air was clear and the sky was as blue as their skin that day, with only the occasional white cloud here and there. They chatted as they walked; stopping occasionally to view the mountain flowers or giggle at a stone that vaguely resembled the shape of Gargamel’s hovel. For now, it seemed as though all from yesterday had been forgotten.

A few minutes later, Don sat down, panting.

“It’s a little far, signore. Let’s-a rest”

“We can have a two minute break” Somebody nodded.

“I was-a thinking more like two hours”

“Seriously, the cabin can’t be that far, if we rest that long we won’t want to keep going” He gestured vaguely in the direction they were walking. “Besides I thought you were supposed to be fit”

Don muttered something that sounded like “I am” But he agreed to keep pushing on.

They had just crossed a small stream when Somebody noticed a wooden object within eye range.

“I can see the cabin! Let’s keep Smurfing!” He grinned, tucking away his map and compass. 

The Italian squinted from his mask.

“It’s a little far, why don’t-a we take a short cut?” 

“What shortcut? We just need to follow the path that we’re – Don what the Smurf are you doing?”  


The hero had stepped from the path to the ledge below, which ran at a diagonal incline towards the cabin. Theoretically, faster. Practically, dangerous. 

“Donny stop that, you’re going to get hurt”

“Me? Pfft, Don Smurfo never gets hurt-” No sooner had he finished speaking did he slip on the precarious slope. 

“Oh sh-Smurf” Somebody threw his backpack down and peered cautiously over the edge. His partner was lying in a bush a couple of meters down, but luckily didn’t seem to have broken anything.

“Signore?”

“Yes Don?”

“I think we should stay on the path” Don called up, untangling himself from the leaves and sticks and heading back up towards the safe path. 

Later that evening, once they were unpacked and settled in, Somebody ordered Don to remove his cape so that he could examine his back. The Italian hung it on the back of the door and sat in front of the crackling fireplace, feeling foolish.

“You’re an idiot, Don” 

“I know” He sighed.

“And you better not do anything like that again. Hold still, this might be cold”

Don winced as he felt a damp compress touching the scratches he’d gained from his earlier fall. It stung, but he knew it was for the best.

“Nothing too deep” Somebody dabbed gently at his back “Only scratches. I think they’ll heal in a couple of days” 

“Nothing like-a this happens in my story books” Don sighed, putting his head in his hands as Somebody applied antiseptic cream over the cuts. 

“What about these?” Somebody gently touched an X shape scar that was on the Italian’s shoulder blade. There were several silver-blue scars lining the hero’s back, hardly visible from an average stance away, but noticeable at close range. 

“Oh I can-a fight, it just doesn’t hurt in my books. That one was from chapter 6 of “The mask of Don Smurfo, Don Smurfo engages in a sword fight with the-a evil rouge” 

“And this one?” Somebody ran his hands along his back to a scar that was almost central. 

“From-a chapter 9 of the same book – Don Smurfo escapes the dragon’s lair”

“This?” Somebody gently touched one that was on the left side above his hip.

Don blushed.

“That one I-a got when uh, I forgot my scabbard ... and-a stabbed myself”

Somebody giggled and kissed the Smurf’s shoulder tenderly.

“Sounds like you’ve got one for every story – that reminds me” Somebody walked over to the backpack he’d brought along and pulled a thick leather-bound book from the side pocket and brought it over to the fireplace.

“Whats-a this?”

“My favourite of your stories” Somebody smiled, delicately stroking the intricate illustration on the cover. It depicted two silhouettes back to back on a Mediterranean looking beach. One was clearly Don Smurfo’s iconic figure, and the other was smaller and more delicate, with long hair tied back into a bun. 

“Don Smurfo and the Road To El Smurfado?” 

“Mhmn, the illustrations are the prettiest, the old artist really knew how to capture the scenery” He sighed, stroking a page that depicted a small Spanish looking town, running his fingers over details in the walls and Smurfs on the street. “But I’ve always wanted to know ...”

“Sì?”

Somebody flipped over a few pages to an illustration of a beautiful Spanish Smurfette, with the same figure as the one from the cover. Her long dark hair was pulled back into an elegant bun and in her cap she had a deep red flower, the same shade as her long, layered dress.

“In a lot of your stories you seem to meet a lot of these kinds of damsels like Señorita Smurfella here – is there anything ... there Do you ... miss her?” 

Don gulped and looked down at the page. It seemed surreal to know these were merely illustrations now when he remembered the stories so clearly.

“It’s ... no. It’s-a more like a play or a film, it is not-a personal, we just do as the story tells us”

“So you didn’t ...” Somebody squirmed a little, he hadn’t said the L word to Don yet, but he was afraid to ask him about others all the same. “love her?”

Don’s face grew red in the firelight.

“N-no, it’s only an ‘on screen’ relationship if you-a understand. It’s partially why I-a chose to leave my books, because this village is full of real Smurfs and real relationships that actually mean something ... like you”

“O-oh, heh, I see” Somebody let out a secret sigh of relief and stifled it with a yawn. “Well it’s still a pretty book, but I think I’ll be Smurfing to bed now”

“Buona notte” Don smiled, picking up the story and looking at the pages in the firelight “See you in-a de morning”

The next morning was more overcast than the last, but luckily not raining. Somebody prepared a breakfast of toast and smurfberry jam and discussed his plans for the day ahead. Timber had given him a list of pretty places he’d found, and Somebody wanted to spend the day exploring and finding these places. He’d also been told that there was a little miniature golf course about a half mile west of the cabin and wanted to spend a while on the course. 

Don was pretty tired by the time they returned back to the cabin, having been dragged up and down the mountain because Timber’s list of things to see had another attraction “just over there!” He had also lost the game of golf, although had been the only one out of the two of them to get a hole in one, a fact which he proudly boasted about. 

As early evening fell, Don started to fire up the hot tub that was adjacent to the cabin. It was a warm evening with a beautiful red sky, and he’d found a bottle of Smurfberry wine in one of the cupboards, which he poured himself a glass of and sat in his swimming trunks on the balcony, enjoying the view of the mountain and the tall trees that grew on all sides. He, of course, was not as into trees as the village lumberjack, but he had to admit it was quite a sight to behold. Somebody sat on the bench adjacent to the hot tub, reading the El Smurfado book. 

“You know, it’s-a nice in here, signore, you should join me”

“Oh um, thank you Don but I’m doing just fine here-”

“But we should-a make the most of it, how many of these do you get in the village”

“Well, not so many, but really, I’m fine”

Don looked at him seriously for a moment. 

“Is it because of your ... body issues? I mean insecurity-”

Somebody looked down at his book, but his eyes didn’t move across the page. Don was about to ask again when Somebody admitted it.

“It’s just-a me here, singore. I’d-a hate for you to miss this because of that”

“W-well ... It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I don’t like being without my full suit in general”

“And you want to-a live the next 1000 years of your life this way?” 

Somebody bit his lip. Well, he had a point.

“Well, wait for me then” He said, taking the book inside. 

Don waited, sipping his wine and watching as a flock of sparrows took flight in the distance. He heard the screen doors opening and turned to see Somebody standing in the doorway. He was still wearing his shades, as usual, but to his credit he was finally out of the suit and in a pair of navy blue swimming trunks that reached his knees. Admittedly, there was still a definite Vanity-esque shape to him, however not as much as Don expected. Whereas Vanity was quite slender in all regards, Somebody had built a little to himself, especially in the arms, from days of training and completing missions. Certainly no Hefty or Farmer Smurf, but still quite muscular in a lithe way, and Don had to admit he couldn’t help blushing a little. 

Despite his impressive physique, Somebody still looked a little uncomfortable, so Don beamed kindly and told him to bring a glass over. The agent did so, and slipped quickly into the water next to his partner. Don poured him half a glass of Smurfberry wine, and nodded at the view below them. 

“Itsa bellissimo, yes?”

“I-it is rather stunning, yes” Somebody agreed, sipping cautiously. Don heard his teeth clanking against the glass.

“Signore, it is-a only me here”

“I know, I know, it’s irrational” Somebody sighed and looked down “I’m just so scared of what others will think”

“I think you look molto bello”

“I-huh?”

Don smiled warmly.

“You look handsome, signore”

“I-I do?”

“Sì”

Somebody was silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say. By Vanity’s standards of course, he was an attractive Smurf, but he’d never thought anyone else would actually take notice, much less compliment him. Perhaps tell him he looked like Vanity, but not whether or not that was a good or bad thing. It was just facts. But Don actually taking notice of him individually without the need to mention Vanity made Somebody feel just that little bit more special, and he relaxed at last. He finished his glass and set it down without any more chattering, and leant against Don’s shoulder, feeling good about himself for the first time in ages. 

“You know, Donny” He said after a few moments of watching the world go by “I always imagined I’d have to live on the outskirts a bit. I never felt like I could make my own choices, everything was just ... Vanity’s. I like lavender and smurfberry pancakes with strawberries and cream and it’s all because I like whatever he likes ... but now I think I have some control”

“It’s not-a bad to like the same things, signore. If you just talk to him I’m sure you’ll see. I-a know his husband can be a little grumpy - well, Grouchy, heh”

“Well ... perhaps one day” Somebody smiled slightly and intertwined his finger’s with Don Smurfo’s. “I think I need to start setting better control for myself, realising my own potential and achievements” He kissed the back of the Italian’s hand “After all, not every Smurf can say they’re dating the one and only Don Smurfo”

“The handsome hero” Don beamed.

“But not the modest one” Somebody chuckled, and gently pulled on his moustache before wrapping his arms around him. Don’s heart was beating lightly against his chest, and Somebody thought for a moment about how strange and real that made it. Here he was, a painting, yet his heart beat as most Smurf’s. Funnier still, in spite of the steam from the hot tub, he smelt slightly of fresh parchment, but that was just a little quirk from his books. Sure, the pasta obsessed Smurf could be as reckless as he was romantic, and not the most humble of creatures, but he was honest and had somehow even broken Somebody’s defences, no easy task.

Don was staring at one of the snowy peaks on the mountains when he heard it. It was quite quiet, but to a Smurf’s hearing range definitely identifiable.

Somebody had said “I love you” for the first time. 

Don blinked, and turned his attention back to the Smurf beside him. The agent’s rosy cheeks were a few shades pinker, and it was absolutely adorable. 

“Signore, you beat me to it”

“Hm?”

Don leant over and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

“There. I-a love you too”

Somebody was definitely quite rosy by now, but he looked happier than he’d ever done in all the time Don knew him. It was late evening by now, and the crimson sky was beginning to blacken in the horizon as the temperature dropped.

“It’s-a late, we should go in”

“It’s a bit nippy and I’m not used to being out of my suit”

Don got out of the hot tub first, offering a hand to help Somebody clamber out next. The agent hugged himself, shivering slightly as the cool mountain air met the evaporating steam.

“I’ll-a put the kettle on for hot Smurflattes with Smurfmallows” Don promised, wrapping one arm around him “But there is-a no hurry to put your suit back on right?”

“Cheeky”

“Can I-a help it if you look so handsome?”

The other rolled his eyes playfully, but deep down he was grateful. 

Somebody awoke the following morning with a smile on his face, because all felt right with the world for once. Don was curled up on his chest this time, his hat askew ever so slightly from the angle. The agent kissed his forehead and wriggled out of his embrace, grabbed a dressing gown from the back of the door, and went to start breakfast, knowing the Italian liked to sleep in but be awoken by the smell of a fry up. Just as he expected, Don sidled into the kitchen just as Somebody was finishing up to hug him from behind and kiss his shoulder, muttering that he loved him. Since the previous evening, they’d had no problems with that phrase, but Somebody also suspected it was Don’s way of asking for extra bacon.

They’d decided that the weekend in the cabin had worked for them, and were planning on returning to the village that same day once they’d packed up. 

“We’ll need to remember to thank Timber” Somebody mentioned, once again dressed to the nine’s in his black suit and tie.

“And-a return his key” Don nodded. “But I wouldn’t mind coming back here some time”

“Me neither” Somebody admitted “as long as it’s summer”

“If it’s summer will you finally stop overheating in that suit of yours?”

“No I’ll get Tailor to make a white one” Somebody joked, and stuck his tongue out slightly. “I just feel better this way, but at least I feel better now” 

“Then it was a good trip, but let’s-a go now, we need to back to the village in time for dinner”

“Oh? And what did you have in mind?”

A wide grin spread across Don’s face.

“Smurfoli Cannelloni, of course”


End file.
